"Pray do not be disturbed," Faxon returned with a heart-throb of gladness. "I saw you were somewhat overcome, and the omission was not to be wondered at under the circumstances."
"I knew you at once," Mollie continued naively and with charming frankness, "and I feared afterward that you might attribute my seeming neglect to an unworthy motive."
"Indeed, no—I hope I could not so wrong you, although you will allow me to say that I was somewhat disappointed," Clifford replied in the same spirit.
He then bade her a reluctant "good evening," lifted his hat, and went away. It seemed to him that he was walking on air as he retraced his steps up-town.
At last he had met and learned the name of the divinity who for years had been his inspiration, whose fair face and deep blue eyes had haunted both his waking and sleeping hours; whose sweet girlish tones and thrilling words had rung like a melodious refrain in his ears for nearly six long years.
It had been a great trial to him not to know who she was, and he had been more irritated over the fact that Philip Wentworth had refused to give him any information regarding her than he usually allowed himself to become over anything. It had been like a poisoned dagger in his heart when that young man had arrogantly boasted of his engagement to the girl who had given him the cameo, which was the choicest treasure he possessed.
But now he knew that Philip had lied—the occurrence of that evening had proved to him that no such tie had ever existed between the two. To be sure, Wentworth had addressed her by the familiar name "Mollie," but her manner toward him had plainly indicated that, although she might previously have regarded him as a friend, she had never surrendered her heart into his keeping.
This assurance set every pulse bounding with a feeling of exultation, and a vague, sweet hope that possibly he might yet awaken some responsive chord in her nature that as yet had been untouched began to take root in his heart.
He blessed the fates that had sent him upon an errand that night into the locality where he had found her in trouble, and thus enabled him to go to her rescue. Then that never-to-be-forgotten walk had seemed leading him straight toward Paradise, the door of which Mollie had opened to him by her invitation to call—a privilege of which he resolved to avail himself at a very early day.
And three evenings later found him standing at her door, seeking admittance.